Commitment.

I slept ten hours last night.  That makes total sense.  Five days in a row of running 8 miles.  The first time that I can remember doing that in many years, maybe ever.  In some ways, it's not that big of a deal.  I've run 20 miles once a week for twenty straight weeks.  I've done 15 Ironman's. I've put in long weeks of Ironman training.  But in the midst of COVID-19 and my obsession, getting out the door every day for five days in a row and running 8 miles has actually been pretty easy.  Why?  Because I'd committed to it.  Every night I'd go to bed knowing what I'd be doing the following morning.   Today is no exception.  I did get a massage yesterday, which I think will be of tremendous help today.  I really don't have any soreness this morning. I am a little tired, despite sleeping for ten hours last night.  I went to bed thinking about my run this morning and I woke up thinking about it.  I'm not quite as excited to do it as I've been all week, and that may or may not change when I get out the door and begin the short quarter mile downhill that begins my daily runs.  It certainly might not be quite there when I start my one mile uphill trek that is beginning of my 8 mile out and back path.  But I'm pretty sure that somewhere along the way, it will feel routine.  That's the advantage of nearly thirty years of running (not continuously).  That's the advantage of 20 weeks of 20 mile long runs.  That's what is in the brain of someone who has done 15 Ironman's, not to mention a 100 mile run-walk.

Commitment.  That's what it really is about.  That's not something I take lightly.  It's not something I struggle with.  In fact, I might sometimes be too committed.  This obsession has proven that.  But my life in many ways has been defined by obsessions and commitments.  Some would call that purpose, which we know is important for human beings.

I assumed yesterday, after a relatively hard effort (fastest time of the first five days), that today would be an easy effort.  Knowing that I have one more day (at least) to go in my one week endeavor, I'm still assuming that today will be an easy effort.  Running is interesting.  Hard is a relative term.  A hard effort can be what I crave on some days.  In fact, I rarely crave a totally easy effort, which is somewhat odd, insofar as that might make the most meditative sense. One would think.  Still, at least as of last night, an easy effort made sense for this morning.  Enjoying the world around me, thinking about Ironman's past (one of my favorite things to think about while running), thinking about my wife and family (my other favorite meditation), are all a little easier to do when the running is easy.

Commitment.  When I head out the door today, I know that I will run 8 miles.  The only thing that would stop me, not to jinx myself, is pain.  Not pain from fatigue or soreness, but actual, injury-type pain.  Fortunately, I've had of that all week.  It's the only risk of running 8 miles every day for seven days.  But the risk is relatively low, with 30 years of running in my legs.  However, it's one reason I timed my massage for yesterday.  Tight muscles have a funny way of sneaking up on you.  I had some soreness in one leg yesterday afternoon, but that was gone by the time I went to bed. I may have soreness during my run, but that is part of being a runner.  What matters most, however, is knowing when a pain might cause harm.  Fortunately, after thirty years, I'm pretty good at knowing that.  And so, I'll go out the door for day six of my eight miles a day of running.  I'll know that by the time I get home, I will have run 48 miles this week, and have only one more day (unless I get the crazy idea of continuing this streak) to go, bringing me above a fifty mile running week for one of the few times in many, many years.  Commitment.